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Friday, February 5, 2016

Minefield

Mostly, I go ok. Ish. But last night we didn't have a good nights sleep. So we are tired. And weary. It has been a week of firsts and new and change, and I just don't wanna anymore.

You think motherhood is babies, and reading stories, and talking to kids about flowers and animals, and yeah you know there will be rough stuff, like having to talk about sex, and hard friendship stuff, and toilet training, and sleepless nights. It's cuddles in bed, inhaling childish loveliness. But sometimes, you have tiny humans who are actively fighting against you. You have tiny humans who are irritating, and don't appreciate the fact that you've tried. You don't think about the day to day life hard, about having to put food on the table every night, or standing in a toilet cubicle in a restroom while a little person does number two and you nearly want to gag at the stench of it, you're just so desperate for it to be over, so you can get out of that tiny, smelly, prison. You don't think about how irritating it is to have to pull over and fix car seat belts, or retrieve lost water bottles, or do school drop offs in the pouring rain.

It's a series of curveballs. Some people, they thrive on spontaneity and the unknown. They relish change and rise to meet new challenges. I avoid them. And motherhood is so many curveballs. All the time. Baby. Teeth. Toilet training. Sleep. Food. Tantrums. Kindy. School. Friendships. Education. Am I making the right choice here? Have I prepared you well enough for this? They shouldn't be watching so much television. No TV in the mornings before school. Here is an iPad, just be quiet for 5 minutes. Don't scream at your brother. Stop hurting the dog. For the love of God, why did you throw dirt at your sister just after she got dressed into her school uniform?

It's just hard.

And then. You hear the garbage truck trundle down the street, and there are no tiny people to tell "look it's the rubbish bin man!" and they don't rush to the window to watch the garbage truck empty the bin, because they aren't there. And pretty soon, even when it's school holidays, they won't rush to watch the bin being emptied, because they will have grown up. And, and, and.....

You want them to grow up, and it's so nice to have some space. But what if they aren't coping? What if you don't cope? How do you learn to be a person again, when all you've been is a mother? And a tiny human is sitting, scared, fighting back the tears at her desk in school, trying to be brave. And you walk away. You have to walk away. Even though every fibre of your being tells you not to. You know this is necessary. So you smile and wave and chirp "Have a great day!" while you drag another tiny human shouting "I don't want to leave the playground, I don't like you mum!"

Oh it's just so many contradictions, and ALL of the feelings. I think it's time for a coffee. And today, cake.